A Dream: A Poem

THE SPIRITUAL VALUE OF FRESH AIR. 211 development. The evil, however, that we bring upon ourselves through neglect is the natural accompaniment of spiritual stupidity. Salt Lake City, Utah. A

DREAM. {For the Improvement Era.) "The Night has a thousand Eyes." Bourdillon. To dream is not to rest for aye The rest that comes to U3 in sleep, When midnight dreams our slumbers share, Is not the calm that soothes the soul The frame in glad repose may lie And gather strength its day to fill But "balmy sleep" unto the brain The sweetest rest will ever yield. I lay, and in my dream I saw A bird, with plumage white as snow; It soared, but I beheld a chain That held it very near the earth The bond I loosed; away it flew; Above the housetops, on it passed, On by the river's side; its coarse To me appeared "erratic, but As if it changed its will, —like boys That stray from home and sudden turn, And then would hide within the home Whose comfort and whose love they fain Once more would long to share, and dwell Secure from all the world's dark frowns, So turned my dove: e'en now I seem To see the speed with which it flew Back to the home so lately left; And with an air of triumph passed Unled into its quiet cot.

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A lesson from my dream appears — Though one by me most fully known— That in the home, not in the world, The truest happiness is found. Charles Clift Lisbon, Portugal.